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It should be down to single digits. But it isn’t because I prefaced the important number with nothing. So it’s still single digits. Stupid zero.
But instead of panicking I’ll be calm because my birthday is still in the double digits range of being away. I still have time before I make another circuit around the sun. Sort of. I guess. Really, I don’t know because of the goofball way our calendar is set up. 
I should say that if you don’t have pens and paper by now (maybe even a pencil) now is the time to rush out and get some. I should say that but how many use paper and writing utensils anymore? I do, sometimes, but not often enough. 

On an unrelated note, I sometimes worry about my sanity. I live alone with a cat and two birds. One of those birds is a mimic. Even though I’m technically alone, I still have creatures to talk to and, sometimes, conversations. Living with a mimic is interesting in itself. Did the smoke alarm just go off or was it the bird? Is someone messing with the microwave? Did someone knock on the door? Worse, my apartment is full of gadgets and geegaws that make noise. Android tablets, iPhone, NAS things, and a multitude of computers. So I always hear some kind of noise, like a Skype notification, but never see anything. Why? Because Zoey the parrot makes those noises and she makes them excellently. In a way, it keeps me on my toes. 
That has nothing to do with my thoughts on sanity, though, other than to demonstrate that I’m becoming that wacky old man that talks to animals. No, what worries me is the kind of thing that happened to me yesterday.
After work I went to the store and felt that I was in the mood for some salad. So I bought lettuce, carrots, cucumbers, black olives, croutons, bacon bits, shredded cheese, and whatever else. I bought enough to make giant salads that would last a couple of days.
When I got home I started up dinner and, while that was cooking, started putting together my salad. I ripped up lettuce, sliced cucumbers, moved other stuff to containers after heaping some of it in my bowl, and put stuff back in the fridge. My dinner wouldn’t be ready for a while yet so I put my salad back in the fridge and continued watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix. 
When dinner was nearly done I cooked up a cob of corn, sliced off a couple of rounds and gave them to the birds (after they cooled down). I also microwaved some vegetables. Dinner was ready at that point so I put it all together and ate.
Later, I took the birds out of their cages, gave out snacks, and wandered around thinking that I was still kind of hungry. I didn’t know why I did because dinner was kind of heavy on the veggies. But I thought, hmmm, I could make another salad. After all, that’s just a bunch of lettuce for the most part. I decided that was a good idea and went looking for my salad bowl which should have been in the kitchen. But it wasn’t. And then I remembered that I never ate my salad. It was still in the fridge. 
I had spent all that time and energy putting it together and somehow thought that I had eaten it even though I hadn’t. On the one hand I was pleased that I wouldn’t have to make another but, on the other hand, what the hell?